Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1 No More Secrets
Chapter 2 Colette
Chapter 3 Sally's Secret
Chapter 4 Aunt Florence
Chapter 5 Sally's Date
Chapter 6 Musolf's
Chapter 7 Bitter Chocolate
Chapter 8 Sundays
Chapter 9 Stealing is Fun
Chapter 10 Changing Tables
Chapter 11 Saturday at the Store
Chapter 12 Keep Your Eye on the Ball
Chapter 13 Keep the Change
Chapter 14 Babysitting is Great
Chapter 15 Prom
Chapter 16 Our Little Secret
Chapter 17 Bad News Travels Fast
Chapter 18 Consequences
Chapter 19 Too Many Cooks
Chapter 20 Secrets Can be a Burden
Chapter 21 Daniel's Visit
Chapter 22 God's Country
Chapter 23 An Invitation
Chapter 24 Jake's Party
Chapter 25 Aunt Florence to the Rescue
Chapter 26 St. Paul
Chapter 27 Home Again
Chapter 28 The Big Game
Chapter 29 A Talk With Sally
Chapter 30 Jake Falls
About the Author
It Starts With a Lie © 2017 FuzionPress.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author, except inthe case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Print ISBN: 978-1946-195081
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017937237
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing 2017
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Cover Design & Interior Print Book Design: FuzionPress
Published by FuzionPress, 1250 E 115th Street, Burnsville, MN, 55337 USA
Ebook Design: Sue Stein
To order contact [email protected]. Reseller discounts available.
For Ryan, Evan, Cameron, Charlotte, Keira, and Patrick Junior.
You’ll never know how much joy you bring me.
How did I get so lucky? Love, Bumpa
Acknowledgments
Many people help an author bring an idea to fruition. Anne Maylone, my amazing daughter, read all drafts of the book. She gave me valuable feedback and insight. Paul Lockman, my patient husband, listened to me read the entire book aloud to him. To hear the play of the words was very beneficial. Clare Lockman, Erin Elgin, Colleen Holtz, my lovely daughters, have supported me through all my writing projects. Connie Hill, my superb editor, read my final draft. Her gentle suggestions pulled the story together. Lorsie Walseth, my long-time friend, let me use her name, Zastrow, for the second baseman. Her grace and kindness in the face of adversity inspired me. Klaus and Bärbel Musolf, our wonderful friends, let me use their name for the store in Red Wing. Their interest in the book kept me writing. Thank you to all for your encouragement.
A special thank you to Ann Aubitz for her creativity and patience in putting the whole project together.
Chapter One
No More Secrets
I really didn’t mean to do it but once it happened I couldn’t undo it. I thought it was over but it sure wasn’t.
I couldn’t tell my mom, dad, Gramps, or even Aunt Florence. Worst of all, I couldn’t tell Sally, my best friend since first grade. Sally and I took a pledge three years ago in sixth grade that we would never, ever have secrets from each other.
My mom always said that the more you lie, the more you have to lie. In this case, it was true because I just had to pretend everything was great and fine when it wasn’t. What was I going to do?
Chapter Two
Colette
My name is Colette, Colette Antonia McGiver. I live in Red Wing, Minnesota, a town of about 10,000 people on the Mississippi River. I was born on October 12, 1958 so I’ve lived in Red Wing fourteen and a half years.
I live with my parents, Gemma and John, and my Grandfather, Antonio Rossini. I call him Gramps and he’s my favorite person in the world, hands down. He left his family in Italy, went through Ellis Island in 1923, lived and worked in Chicago, met my Grandma Rose, and then moved to Red Wing, where he opened a pharmacy/soda fountain. My dad became partners with Gramps before I was born. Now that Gramps is retired, my dad owns the store.
My mom works at the store part-time and at St. Anastasia’s, my grade school, during the school year.
The other member of our family is my mom’s sister, Aunt Florence. She’s a nursing supervisor at our local hospital. She lives six blocks from our house with her husband, Mike, and their daughter, Rosie.
I’m in the ninth grade at City Bluffs High School and I love it there. My best friend, Sally, goes to the high school too. It was kind of hard for both of us to begin with. We didn’t know very many people so Sally and I clung to each other. We had homeroom together and, luckily, we had the same lunch break. So we always had someone to sit with. Now it’s the middle of March and Sally and I have made some friends so we have a full table at lunch.
“Colette, you glad basketball’s over?” Sheila Donohue asked. Sheila sits at our table every day.
I’ve played basketball for as long as I can remember. It was a big deal at St. Anastasia’s. The whole school and all their families went to the games. Last year, 1972, we actually won the city championship. Gramps cheered and whistled the whole game. We went through every single play as soon as I got home. I knew I could never top that, not in a million years.
Sheila and I were on the high school basketball B-Squad. We played other B-Squads in the area. We had lost our last game against Lake City so the season was over. “I guess I’m glad. Next year I hope I’m on the varsity,” I said.
“Me too,” Sheila said. “Remember, softball starts in less than two weeks.”
“I remember.”
We finished eating and Sally pulled me aside. “Can you come over later? I have something to tell you.”
“What? Tell me now.” Since we never had secrets from each other, I told Sally all my conversations at school and everything that happened at home. She told me everything that happened in her house. It was a lot more exciting than my house, believe me. Sally had five brothers and sisters so the commotion in the house was non-stop.
“I can’t right now. It would take too long.”
“I’m intrigued.” I stepped closer to Sally. “Give me a hint.”
“Come over on Saturday.”
“It‘s only Wednesday. I can’t wait that long. I have to work on Saturday.” I worked every other weekend at our family store making the greatest malts and sodas for our customers. My dad paid me a dollar twenty five cents an hour which was more than I made babysitting. “Should I call you later?”
“No. You know I can’t talk for very long. Plus there’s no privacy.”
The telephone at Sally’s house was next to the steps going upstairs. There was a little table for the phone that had a seat attached to it. Mrs. Reynolds yelled at anyone who was on the phone more than ten minutes. Sally’s two younger brothers, Joe and Eric, were usually fighting or wrestling each other so loudly that Sally would say, “I can’t even think with those two around.” If that wasn’t enough, Sally’s thirteen-year-old sister, Anna, whined about one thing after another. She couldn’t use the phone, she didn’t get any new clothes, she didn’t like the cold, she didn’t like the rain, or she didn’t even hav
e her own bed; she had to share her bed with eight-year-old Margaret. This brought more yelling from Mrs. Reynolds, who put her hands on her hips, and said, “Would you stop complaining?” At this point Sally would sigh and say, “I better go.”
I thought about all those things for a few seconds. “Sal, I guess we’ll have to wait until Saturday. I’m going to be thinking about it every minute.”
“You won’t believe it.”
Mrs. Crenshaw was our homeroom teacher and my English teacher too. After lunch, we had ten minutes of homeroom before going to English.
All I could think about was what Sally’s secret was.
Everyone left the room except Mrs. Crenshaw’s English class. She was nice enough but she sure was a stickler for grammar. You didn’t want to say the word ain’t in front of her. I pulled out my English book, knowing that we were going to talk about the parts of the sentence again and again. Subjects, direct, and indirect objects were her specialty. And, of course, that led to writing a correct sentence. Our goal for the year was to make sure that we could write a paper that we could be proud of, that she could be proud of, and that our parents could be proud of.
“What is the subject of this sentence?” Mrs. Crenshaw asked. She wrote on the blackboard - Joseph wrote a letter to his wife. “This is review, girls.”
Hands went up in the air.
“Joseph,” several people said.
“Correct. What’s the predicate?” Since predicate was just another word for verb, the hands went up in the air again. “Sam, what’s the answer?”
“Wrote,” Sam O’Malley said. Sam was short for Samantha. She had long, reddish hair pulled back in a pony tail. Whenever she talked her pony tail moved side to side with a flip of her head. I sat right behind her.
Mrs. Crenshaw paced in front of the class. She was shorter than most of us at five foot two and always dressed perfectly. Everything matched from her scarves to her shoes to her purses. “Okay now, what’s the direct object? Remember the predicate acts on the direct object.”
“Is it a letter?” Sheila Donohue asked.
“You are correct. That is what Joseph is writing. A letter.”
“Now the indirect object. What is it? Colette?”
I looked up from my notebook where I had been doodling. A big question mark with lots of smaller question marks filled the page. I squinted at the board. “Sally,” I said.
“I don’t see Sally on the board. Try again.”
“Secret,” I said. I don’t know why I said that. It literally flew out of my mouth. It was quiet in the room.
“We have a really interesting sentence, class. Joseph wrote a letter to his secret Sally.”
The class laughed.
“I can’t top that,” Mrs. Crenshaw said. “Let’s take out our book, The Pearl, and see what John Steinbeck does with his sentences.
Chapter Three
Sally’s Secret
I asked Sally Thursday and Friday for a preview. She just smiled. “You’ll have to wait until Saturday.”
“I hope I can get off early. I’ll ask my mom again.” If we weren’t busy at the store, sometimes I went home at four instead of five.
Friday night at the dinner table I brought it up. “Have you decided about tomorrow?” I looked at my mom.
“About leaving early?”
“Yeah, if it’s not busy.”
“I think it would be okay for you to leave at four. Only if
it’s not busy though. Why is it so important?”
“Sally and I have some things to talk about.”
“What in the world are you and Sally talking about that’s
so important?” Gramps asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Then how do you know it’s important?”
“Because she told me it was.”
Gramps had a full smile now. “That’s interesting.”
Gramps took a bite of the tuna and noodle casserole my mom fixed once a month on Fridays. “I’ll need to hear everything you discussed with Sally,” Gramps said. “Don’t leave anything out.”
“Sure, Gramps.”
Saturday at four o’clock, I walked onto Sally’s front porch. She opened the door before I even rang the doorbell. She had gotten her hair cut in the new shag style.
“Cute hair, Sal. Turn around.”
Sally fluffed her blond hair as she turned around. “I don’t know if I like it.”
“I do. You look older.”
“Good. Just what I want.”
Sally whisked me upstairs to her room. She looked in the closet and even under the bed to make sure no one was hiding. “All clear,” she said.
We both plopped down on her double bed. “Well, what happened?” I said.
“Nothing yet,” Sally said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know Jake O’Malley?”
“Of course I know Jake O’Malley.” Jake was Sam’s brother and a junior at our school. He was the star running back on our football team and the star pitcher on our baseball team. If that wasn’t enough, he was really, really cute. He had dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, and perfect white teeth that he showed often as he smiled. Sally and I decided shortly after starting high school that he was the cutest boy in the whole school.
“He’s been hanging around our house a lot.”
“He’s friends with John, isn’t he?” John was Sally’s brother who was two years older than her.
“Yeah, they play baseball together.”
“So, what does that have to do with you?”
“I’m just going to blurt it out. He asked me out.” “What?”
“He wants me to meet him at the movie theater.” “Wow, Sally. Tell me exactly what he said.”
“Well, he was talking about the movie, The Poseidon Adventure. He asked me if I had seen it. I said no, I hadn’t. Then he said he was going on Friday and I should go too.”
“Are you sure he wants to meet you? Maybe he was just telling you that he wants to see the movie.”
“That’s not what I heard.” “Are you going?”
“Yeah.”
“What did your mom say?” “Nothing.”
“That doesn’t sound like your mom.”
“I didn’t tell her.” Sally fluffed up her new hairstyle with her fingers. “She says Jake gives a big smile but he doesn’t mean anything he says.”
“So she doesn’t like him.” To tell you the truth, I didn’t know how anyone could not like Jake. The boys all wanted to be like him and the girls wanted to be with him.
“My mom says no dating until sixteen. I’m fifteen now and I don’t agree.” Sally was seven months older than me and had just turned fifteen.
“So what are you going to do?”
“That’s where you come in.”
“In what way?”
“I may need a cover story. My mom trusts you.”
The last person I wanted mad at me was Mrs. Reynolds. Sally had never asked me anything like this before. “If you say you’re coming over to my house, that won’t work. Our moms talk all the time.”
“I know. Please, Colette, help me.” Sally’s hands were in the praying position. “I may not get another chance with Jake. If I say, wait a year, he’ll think I’m a baby.”
“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Sal.”
“Why not?” Sally’s blue eyes could look right through you. She waited for me to answer. I didn’t have a good answer so I didn’t say anything. She continued, “Here’s the plan. We can both be dropped off at the movie theater and then we can both be picked up later.”
“You mean I’m going with you?”
“I hope so.” Her hands were still in the praying position. “I have wanted to see the movie.
“As long as you’re not too close to Jake and me, you can
watch the movie too.”
“Are you sure about this? It sounds weird to me.” I didn’t know if she knew what this sounded like. I was
supposed to go with her, pretend I wasn’t with her at the movie, and then come home with her.
“Jake said next Friday. Does that work for you?”
“I guess.” I wasn’t sure this was going to work at all. “Thank you, Colette. Please don’t tell anybody.”
“Me? Tattle. Never.”
“Sally,” Mrs. Reynolds yelled.
Sally paid no attention. I guess when you lived in a house with so many people, you tuned out all the noise. I felt a little nervous because Sally was rambling on and on about Jake.
There was a pounding at Sally’s door before the door flew open. “Didn’t you hear me?” Mrs. Reynolds said with her hands on her hips.
“I don’t think I did.” Sally said. She looked down at her fingernails. “Did you hear anything, Colette?”
“It doesn’t matter what Colette heard or didn’t hear. I wasn’t calling her. I was calling you,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “I need you to babysit while I go to the grocery store. Please come downstairs.” Mrs. Reynolds always said please and thank you.
“Isn’t John around? It’s his turn.”
“No, he’s not around.” Mrs. Reynolds put her hands back on her hips.
Sally got up and said, “I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you.”
“Sal, I’m going to go,” I said. It was five o’clock. We hadn’t had nearly enough time to talk about her secret plan. “You can stay and help if you want.”
“I better get home.” Once in a while I helped Sally babysit. By the time I was done I was grateful for my quiet house and the fact that I had privacy in my bedroom and bathroom.
We walked downstairs. Joe and Eric ran by making their popping sounds as they shot at each other. Anna was already complaining about how mean Sally was going to be to her. Little Margaret waved to me with a big smile.
“Bye, Sal,” I said. “I’ll let myself out.”
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